


you'd be surprised

by civillove



Series: plans wrapped in rubber bands [13]
Category: Good Girls (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-18
Updated: 2019-05-18
Packaged: 2020-03-07 03:39:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18864946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/civillove/pseuds/civillove
Summary: Prompt from anon on tumblr: I absolutely love your Brio fics. Beth and Rio go on a road trip of sorts to meet someone or pick up something related to their business, and end up having to share a room at a roadside motel for the night.--“Look this decision isn't hard ma, you either get in the car or you're done.” The ultimatum rings in her ears; she knew it was coming. Then he fixes her with a look that’s far too pointed, tries to slip his fingers between her pages and read her like braille. “You should know all about lyin’ in a bed once you've made it.”





	you'd be surprised

**Author's Note:**

> I am overwhelmed by the constant love and support this series is getting. Thank you SO much!

Beth isn’t sure how long she sits there in her car staring at the dashboard.

Luckily, when Rio asked her to leave she managed to get her legs moving, putting her shirt back on and gathering up her coat before stumbling her way out. She can’t seem to shake the memory of how he looked at her: a cold indifference she’s never really felt before, not towards her. It was his eyes, she realizes, that hurt the most; as if he’d carved her from the inside out.

Hollow— _that’s_ how she feels.

Part of her thinks that she should have seen this coming; this is what she gets for following him, breaking into his home, violating his trust—and yet, Rio knows her, maybe better than anyone. He knew exactly what to say, what to do, in order to pry her open and leave her exposed.

Dean’s hurt her before: making passive aggressive and sometimes downright sexist comments that he tries to pass off as jokes, telling her how good of a mother she is only in comparison as if she can’t do anything else, cheated on her, blamed their failing lifestyle on anything but himself, _you’re wonderful Beth but…_ always a ‘but’.

This is different, somehow this is worse.

Because Rio knows her in a way Dean never has. He knows the darkest parts of her, what makes her tick, how she works, her inexperience, her worries, her doubts, how she _hurts—_

He knows, and that’s exactly how he’s managed to make her feel like she’s broken into two pieces, cracked right up the middle, fragments chunking off. This is what Rio does best; he’s not just a good business person or criminal, he’s not just a good shot with a gun or a decent, caring father…he knows how to read people, to split them open and observe what’s inside and use it.

He keeps parts of herself to use against her later.

She feels like she should have known better; what was going to happen if she pushed too far. Beth’s emotions wrap around her like a damp blanket, naïve and foolish, and suddenly Annie’s concern about her feelings about Rio suddenly make too much sense. She starts to second guess that he actually cares about her; it is really just about the jobs, the money or how well they work together?

She’s exposed him and in turn, he’s exposed her just as viciously.

Beth doesn’t realize she’s crying until her chest buckles, until she has to lean against the steering wheel so she doesn’t fold into herself. She takes a staggering breath into her lungs, ugly sobs the result of leftover adrenaline and Rio ringing her inside out like forgotten laundry.

She finds her red-rimmed eyes in the rearview mirror and stares, hard, forcing herself to calm down. Her hands wipe her cheeks with shaking fingers, drawing her lower lip into her mouth as she starts the car. Beth hasn’t cried about a man in a long time, not since everything that happened with Dean and she hates herself just a little for letting Rio amount to so much control over her.

She let herself get wrapped up in things she shouldn’t have, in feelings that didn’t belong in this world—none of its pretty and none of its safe and she got too comfortable against him, how it felt to be in his arms and skin. Beth wants to blame him but she’s as every bit responsible; he had warned her about what it meant to be down in the dirt, about never coming back out clean and she hadn’t listened.

Well now she’s here and it’s too late.

Beth curls her hair around her ear, getting it away from her face as she puts the car into drive and begins her way home. If she’s learned anything over the last few months, it’s that she can adapt, that she’ll be okay, that the hurt will fade.

That’s the thing about hitting bottom, there’s nowhere to go but back up.

\--

Beth holds her cellphone between her ear and her shoulder as she pulls grocery bags out of the back of her car, slowly taking a few at a time inside her house to the kitchen.

“Trust me, I get it, I’m literally carrying in another four-hundred-dollar grocery order.” She lets out a big sigh when she puts the bags down on the counter and the milk spills over, almost knocking cereal boxes onto the floor.

She starts sifting for cold items, organizing them in the fridge by the sell dates. “I just don’t want to let my kid down.” Annie mumbles, probably has her face buried by a pillow by the sound of it.

Beth pauses as she closes the fridge, leaning against the counter as a comfortable silence stretches between them. She can’t imagine what her sister is going through; trying to provide for her child and hitting a giant wall of ‘fuck you’ because anything medical related is out the ceiling expensive. She empathizes, she really does—every time she’s with her kids she can’t stop thinking about how much she wants to provide for them, how she never wants them in a position where they’re scrounging to make ends meet (or, breaking the law by robbing grocery stores).

“Look, Sadie knows you love him more than anyone.” She slowly walks towards the front door to close the trunk of her car, her fingers playing with the fashion belt on the waist of her dress, bright blue, contrasting beautifully against her auburn hair. “We’ll figure it out, always do.”

She can see her sister smile, almost feels it through the receiver of the phone and pauses in the doorway because…

Because there’s Rio’s car at the base of her driveway, blocking her in. The window rolls down and she can see him, just barely, leaning back against the seat looking at her car before his eyes trail through the grass and land on her.

Her stomach shoots all the way into her chest, a nauseas wave following that she nearly has to grip the doorjamb.

“Shit Annie, I have to call you back. There’s a stray cat getting ready to fuck up my rhododendrons.” She hangs up on her before she has a chance to reply and licks her lips, closing her front door and walking down the steps to her driveway.

Beth can feel his eyes on her, burrowing into her back as she shuts her trunk, drinking her in and sliding under her dress and she has no idea how he always makes her feel utterly _exposed._ She refuses to squirm under his gaze as she turns around and walks to the passenger door.

He’s wearing blue, a brighter dress shirt still buttoned all the way up his neck, but she remembers seeing the color in his closet and wishing he wore colors like that more often. Now seeing him wearing it just hurts, their colors almost coordinating, and she has to bite down on the hollowing ache that starts up again under her ribcage. Regardless of everything, she still wants to work with him, they have a business to run and if talking with Annie has told her anything—it’s that she _needs_ him despite wanting to do everything on her own.

Rio tilts his head a little as he looks at her, not turning the engine off, which is good because that means he doesn’t plan on staying for long. For some reason she thinks he’ll look different when there’s a period of space between them but he doesn’t—he’s always the same, always a dangerous level of handsome, soft scruff on his jawline, the lines of his face drawn into his mask. Maybe it’s because she always _feels_ different when she sees him, that she’s always changing despite that he remains consistent in his inconsistencies.

“You been avoidin’ me?”

She bites down on her tongue, hard, “No,” _Yes._ “I’ve just been busy.”

His eyes zero in on the corner of her mouth and moths erupt in her chest at remembering that he said he could tell when she was lying by the quirk of her lips. He doesn’t call her out on it though, just smirks gently and nods his head, pausing a moment to look out the windshield.

“I tried callin’.”

Shit. She blocked his number. “I didn’t get any messages.”

“So this is you _not_ avoidin’ me?” He presses, turning his head to look at her again. Rio leans down a little, can barely see her through the passenger window because she’s not standing close enough to the car.

She just…she needed some time. She knew he’d show up here eventually because he always does. Apparently he _still_ can interrupt her life while she can’t do the same to him and frustration bubbles along the inside of her skin, white and hot and erupting in her torso because he’s got a lot of nerve.

“I don’t know, is this you not bothering me?” She throws back, crossing her arms over her chest.

There’s far too much amusement pulling at the ends of his mouth and he pauses a moment, gathering what he wants to say before, “Oh baby if I was gonna bother you, you’d know it.” She hates that he does that, those terms of endearment littered in his language, so strategically placed.

She thought he said those things offhandedly, without much purpose or reason other than to get under her skin but Beth has realized that Rio doesn’t do anything accidently. She bites down on her response that he is, in fact, bothering her but what would be the point? It’s not like she doesn’t want to work the jobs, get paid, and if he’s proven anything to her it’s that he’ll drop her without thinking twice.

“Get in.”

She lets out a slow breath, Rio reaching across the middle of the car to open up the passenger door. He won’t wait for long, she knows this, and yet she doesn’t move. She curls her hair around her ear and thinks about it for a long moment: walking away again. She knows, even if she did, how miserable she’d be. She’s in this thing for a reason and only part of it is about money.

His jaw clenches as he watches her, trying to read her even though she’s glued her pages shut. He doesn’t get to do that anymore.

“Look this decision isn't hard ma, you either get in the car or you're done.” The ultimatum rings in her ears; she knew it was coming. Then he fixes her with a look that’s far too pointed, tries to slip his fingers between her pages and read her like braille. “You should know all about lyin’ in a bed once you've made it.”

He throws that at her, sharp vowels sticking into her skin, referring to tension bubbling between them without actually saying it. Is this how it’s going to be? They just don’t talk about their problems? Letting it bubble over like a pot on the stove with the lid sealed?

Beth gets into the car and the moment the door closes he pulls away from her driveway, the engine purring in a soft manner that gently vibrates the leather seats. She curls her hair around her ear, waiting for him to tell her what they’re doing but she once again that he rarely starts, she usually has to ask.

“Where are we going?”

He glances up at the rearview mirror and puts his turn signal on, “Ann Arbor.”

Her mouth opens a little, turning a bit in her seat to look at him. “That’s forty-five minutes away.”

He smiles, his eyes flickering over to her before focusing on the road. “Half-hour if you drive slightly above the speed limit.”

“I can’t just disappear to Ann Arbor; you should have told me that’s where we were headed. I don’t even have my purse.”

“Which is why,” Rio reaches forward to turn the radio on, “I tried callin’.” He says again, slower as if he’s talking to his son.

That’s part of her tipping point, the frustrated tone in his voice like he shouldn’t have to repeat himself but not only that, it’s the fact that he seems _astounded_ that he has to work so hard to get in touch with her. Like there wouldn’t be any reason why she’d be giving him the cold shoulder.

“Maybe I didn’t want to talk to you.” She nearly snaps, pulling back the reigns of her voice but it still sounds loud in the small space of the car.

“Nah?” He looks over at her, raising his eyebrows. “All of a sudden?” His lower lip is slightly pouty and while that used to be something she found attractive, she’s so mad that part of her wants to hit him. “Couldn’t get you to stop before.”

“So you _were_ getting my calls, you were just ignoring them.”

“I was _busy,”_ He throws back at her, his voice slightly edged. “Isn’t that what you just told me? That work for you?”

“No, maybe it doesn’t.” This conversation is getting away from her, heated words just leaving her lips because she’s unable to stop it.

“Then it sounds like we gotta reevaluate this partnership of ours.” He’s not as heated anymore, he’s slipped back into indifference, the fact that he can work with anyone—another housewife, another mother, someone who’s _not_ her and gives him so many issues.

The finality, the closure he’s referring to, the fact that he’d be willing to just close the book on them working together hits painfully in her chest. He was going to teach her, wasn’t he? This is it? They have one blowout and can’t find common ground again?

Maybe it’s for the best, maybe it’s a sign she should just accept that their relationship can’t be repaired and move on. If they can’t even work together without snapping at one another, how are they supposed to effectively communicate? They moved like magnets before, read each other without saying anything.

Now? It feels like a storm cloud they’re stuck in—can’t quite see one another through the destruction let alone listen to get through it. Storms sometimes leave too much destruction to sift through; there won’t be enough of either of them left after this.

“Yeah, maybe we do.” She agrees, her voice thicker than she wants it to be.

Beth swallows and looks away from him, wrapping her arms around herself as she leans back against the seat. She forces herself to watch the road, the yellow lines passing beside them, suburban houses disappearing into elongated stretches of cracked concrete and open space of the highway.

It’s quiet for a long time, music playing too low for her to properly hear lyrics but she can pick out beats and when a chorus swells. She runs a hand over her face, pausing to rub at her temples, thinking about all the groceries she left out that Dean will have to put away. She knows that she should probably come up with an excuse to where she is, waiting for her phone to ring with him asking, but she’s too tired to think about it. Part of her knows he won’t believe her anyways.

“Shipment of pills didn’t make it into a set of cars in time,” Surprisingly enough that’s more details then she thought she was going to get, “Got someone to bring them over the border but, we gotta lift them.” His hands squeeze the steering wheel. “Can’t trust anyone to just do a fuckin’ job these days.”

Beth’s quiet for a moment, thinking about what might be the last job they do together and the mention of trust. She’s not sure if Rio’s ever trusted her—or maybe she really has to redefine what trust _means._ It doesn’t have to look like just one thing; her trust in Dean and Rio look very different. All this time she was expecting so much out of him, feeling entitled to know his life because she always overshares hers…and while hindsight is 20/20, she should have taken the time to really think what she was asking him for.

Yeah, he didn’t tell her about his place…but if she’d just taken a moment, she would have realized that Rio was trusting her in his own way. He does tell her things and while she usually needs to prompt, he eventually opens up. He takes her to deals, to drops, tells her about Marcus, brought him to the dealership and left her alone to look after him, did things for her that he didn’t have to, took care of her problems.

She fucked up, she can admit that to herself…but even if she apologized, she’s almost certain he wouldn’t return it. And maybe she deserved it, his anger, the petty game of twenty questions but he’d hurt her, intimately, in a way only he could.

_I do trust you_ she’d told him.

_That’s probably a bad idea._

He’d been right.

\--

Beth starts to feel uncomfortable around the thirty-minute mark; it’s the gentle swaying of the car, despite how well Rio is driving, that really does it to her. She’s always been susceptible to getting car sick over long distances, a thought that hadn’t occurred this afternoon when they’d left her place. She ignores it at first, closes her eyes and takes several slow breaths through her nose, letting it out her mouth and that helps for a little while.

She’s almost thankful that Rio pulls into a gas station, driving underneath an awning to one of the gas pumps. The keys jingle as he turns the engine off, pocketing them, “We’re about fifteen minutes out.”

Beth blinks in soft surprise, wondering why he didn’t just push through to get them there, get this whole thing over with but she’s not about to ask. She just nods, watching him pull his dress shirt down over the gun in his waistband before his eyes fall on her. He hesitates, his gaze tracing along her form before settling on her face.

“I’ll be right back.”

And then he’s gone, walking briskly to the convenience store located across from the pumps. It’s a small gray-bricked building with a few windows littered with advertisements for extra-large drinks, overpriced hotdogs and neon signs blinking OPEN that you can see from down the road. The lights hurt her head, throbbing at her temples and suddenly she’s too hot, a cold sweat gathering at the back of her neck. When her stomach violently lurches, that semi-sweet taste in the back of her throat, she knows she has to get out of the car.

She quickly opens the passenger door and stands outside, pulling her hair back into a short ponytail to try to regulate her temperature. Beth leans back against the back door, taking a slow breath into her mouth, dizziness threating to pull her to the concrete. With a few more concentrated moments, the nausea finally starts to fade at the edges with the fresh air. She focuses on the fact that she can tell it’s going to rain soon, can hear thunder in the distance and smell the dampness rolling in.

Beth doesn’t sense his approach until a bottle of water appears under her nose. She leans up, a soft crinkle appearing between her eyebrows. She stares at it for a moment, her hesitance making the edges of his mouth quirk.

“Don’t want it?”

No, she definitely does, and takes it from him. Rio opens up his own water and takes a sip, glancing past her into the distance, watching other cars in the lot. She takes a few gulps of water, letting her eyes close a moment to make sure she doesn’t lose it. Beth really doesn’t want to be in car anymore, only fifteen minutes or not.

She hears water spill and suddenly a cold compress is being pressed against the back of her neck. She visibly jumps, Rio’s one hand coming down gently on her shoulder, thumb pressing circles into her collarbone.

“Relax.” He murmurs and she wants to push him away, take his hands off her, but his touch is warm and the compress is soothing against the sticky sweat on her skin.

Beth swallows, unsure of how to feel with him so close again. It hurts, she knows that much, that scab she’s beginning to form over what happened in his apartment being scratched open again. She can smell the combination of his skin and cologne when the wind blows in their direction, her eyes grazing over the feathers on his neck, looking almost soft to the touch against the sky blue of his button-down shirt.

She clears her throat when their eyes meet, distracting herself with, “Don’t we need gas?”

He draws his lower lip into his mouth a moment before shaking his head. “Nah, just pulled over cause you looked a little green.”

It feels like a weight falls from a tall height right into her stomach; they’re not even here for the car, they stopped because he noticed she was carsick. And suddenly she wants to scream because _how—_ how can this be the same person who said so many cruel things to her the other night?

He’s always telling her that she can’t have it both ways, she can’t be a boss bitch and get her hands dirty and then complain about the stains on her skin that won’t come off. And if that’s true? Then he can’t do this either, he can’t have it both ways: he can’t keep her at an arm’s length and then draw her close when he feels like it.

Beth straightens her back and brings her hands up to gently take his off her, “I feel better. We should go.”

He doesn’t quite look like he believes her, his jaw working as he chews on a thought, holding onto his bottle of water before taking another sip. He nods, rounds the car and gets inside, starting the engine again. She takes one more deep breath into her lungs before opening her door; this is going to be a long fifteen minutes.

\--

Music does little to drown out the tension mounting in the car, she can feel it curling off of herself like smoke the longer she sits with her thoughts. She keeps feeling Rio’s hands on the back of her neck, his thumb against her collarbone, picturing the way his lower lip juts out slightly from his upper when he concentrates. The warmth of his body contrasts drastically to the cold hard gaze he’d fixed her with when he asked her to leave her apartment and she’s giving him a hard time, she _knows_ this but—if their partnership is already open for discussion anyways, she’s not going to hold back on how she really feels.

She’s past the point of being cautious with him.

“You never said where we’re meeting these clients.”

Rio taps his thumb against the steering wheel, gaze on the road, “We’re almost there.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

She sees his shoulders pull tight as he lets out a soft sigh, “That’s the answer you’re gettin’.”

Beth shakes her head because that’s not good enough, “Who are they?”

“People.” He all but snaps, patience wearing thin. It’s not like she hasn’t done this before, tried to get information out of him before she shows up at the drama only to get swept up into it but he seems to sense that this is a little different.

Their game of twenty questions is still fresh in her mind and she presses the button that he tries to keep her hands off. She realizes that she’s trying to start an argument with him because at least when she gets a reaction out of him like _that_ it feels honest.

“If I’m not allowed to ask questions about our work then what can I ask? Oh! Maybe I can ask how you picked the color scheme for the apartment you didn’t want me to know about.”

“Elizabeth.” One word, a warning.

She feels like a hurricane is spinning in her chest, desperate to break through her ribcage—suddenly pent up frustration translates into a ton of questions leaving her lips, “Did Marcus like the colors? Why exposed brick? Why an open space? Do you even spend any time there? How about introducing some warm colors into your closet space? And, oh yeah, why did you feel like you couldn’t tell me the truth?” She’s out of breath, the last word choked by lack of oxygen. Frustrated tears gather at the corner of her eyes as she pants a little, hands shaking.

An embarrassed pink kisses her cheeks at her outburst but all Rio does is turn into a parking lot of a motel, choosing a spot by the neon sign that says _Lost Paradise_ with a blinking flamingo and palm trees.

He turns the car off and turns to look at her, “You done?” There’s a mixture of amusement and something else dancing on his face, stuck between two emotions, eyes dark yet somehow warm as it starts to rain. “Feel better?”

She shakes her head, hands moving to rub over her face because _no,_ she does not feel any better. Beth pinches the bridge of her nose, letting out a soft breath as he waits for her to compose herself. They sit there, the rain pattering on the windshield, and it’s not until she meets his gaze does he say anything.

“Did you tell your husband that you were workin’ with me again? Hmm?” She pauses, unable to reply, but he already knows the answer. “Or how you really got that bruise on your face?”

Beth feels like she’s about to swallow her own tongue, that nausea coming back to settle in her torso and yet it has nothing to do with being carsick. She starts to connect the dots, where he’s going with this, forcing her into the spot she’s putting him into.

“Did you tell your friends that you killed someone?” Rio lets that question sit in the car, in the space between them, his eyes holding onto her gaze for a long moment before he shrugs his one shoulder. “Didn’t share that at the last PTA meetin’?”

Beth swallows and swear she tastes metal in the back of her throat, her fingers twitching a little because he’s right, _of course_ he’s right, he’s never been hesitant about telling her how it really is. He sees her, sometimes a mirror image. She wants him to be honest with her and yet she hasn’t been honest with herself, or to others, the people who she’s supposed to be able to tell anything to.

She’s a hypocrite.

“I didn’t think so,” He takes her silence as his answer, glancing out the windshield as the rain starts to pick up. “So before you give me another speech about how I’m keepin’ things from you? Maybe you should take a look at yourself first.”

Rio gets out of the car and waits for her to follow, the rain coming down in sheets as she opens up the passenger door and runs under an awning that has bubble gum pink numbered doors lining the parking lot. The concept of motels in general is enough to make her skin crawl but the fact that this one is _trying_ to be cheery and relate to some sort of island getaway is just so wrong. She scrunches her nose at more flamingo prints on curtains as they walk past doors, her eyes on Rio’s back as he leads, rain droplets creating small shadows on his sky-blue shirt.

“Cameras?” She asks, just curious because this is one of the first times they’ve met someone in a place that wasn’t Boland Motors or a random abandoned parking lot.

“Nah, it’s not on this place’s list of high priorities. You come here if you want a little privacy.”

She wraps her arms around herself, repressing a shiver, _another_ thing she could have brought with her today was her raincoat if Rio would have just let her collect herself at her place before driving off.

“Maybe this lost paradise should have stayed lost.” She mumbles, mostly to herself as they stop outside of a room on the corner, Rio’s lips twitching as he overhears her commentary on the motel’s name.

He knocks on the door, waiting, his eyes looking over Beth’s shoulder to make sure no one is going to pass them. She turns to watch the rain fall for a moment as he knocks on the door again, this time a little more insistent—and it pushes open. He straightens his back a little as a tense line appears over his shoulders, his hand instantly going for his gun because he doesn’t trust this.

Beth feels all the hair stand up on her arms as he pushes his way inside and she slowly follows in his footsteps. She doesn’t exactly register everything at once when he flips the light on, it takes her a moment because she’s staring at the carpet which is most definitely _yellow_ except…

Except for a wide red darkened patch near the bathroom and—

“ _Oh my god_.” Her voice is incredibly high and she feels herself take a step back even though she’s pretty sure she’s not going anywhere because…because there are—

There are two bodies on the ground of the motel room, staining the yellow carpet and suddenly Rio is there, putting his hand over her mouth. She struggles, choked cries echoing against his palm as he gently backs her up against the doorjamb.

“Look at me,” His voice is as soft as velvet, his other hand resting against her collarbone. “Elizabeth.”

Wide, frightened eyes meet his own and…was she always breathing so heavy? So fast?

“You can’t scream, mami, understand?” He takes a step towards her, blocking her view of the—it’s a man and a woman. Oh god, it’s a woman. She nods but she’s not sure if she’s really answering him, tastes bile on her tongue, can smell the metal of his gun on the hand covering her mouth. “I need you to nod if you’re hearin’ me.”

It takes her a long moment but she does nod again, this time more purposeful, a single tear slipping down her cheeks as she closes her eyes. Rio’s thumb rubs against her collarbone, moving to clasp the back of her neck to pull her into his chest. She hides there for a long moment, trying to bury herself in him, her nose and lips against the fabric of his shirt. His scent soothes her; a mixture of skin and cologne somehow stronger thanks to the rain.

He presses his lips against her temple before he forces her to pull back, moving his hand to tip her chin so that their eyes meet. Once he has her attention,

“Go outside.”

She shakes her head, _no,_ because she needs to see this and if the people who did this are still here, she doesn’t want to be alone. He looks like he’s about to protest; ready to push her until she’s over the threshold and out of the room because she’s like warm clay in his hands.

“I’m okay,” She chokes out, which is so far from the truth but she sniffles and soothes her fingers over the front of her dress like it might distract her from what’s behind Rio’s body. “I can—I can do this just tell me what to do.”

Rio’s jaw works as he turns to look over his shoulder, a quick nod in her direction as he steps over a guy lying face down near the foot of the bed. He picks up a black duffle and swears under his breath because clearly, that bag is empty. Beth’s eyes follow a trail of blood to a woman…

She’s not sure what she expects but in that moment it reminds her too much of herself, almost to the point where she feels like she might be sick. The woman physically looks nothing like her but she’s…plain, Caucasian, soft skin and long brown hair. Her throat is slit, eyes wide open in fear, and she’s got a dress on—it’s pretty, evergreen. This woman _could_ be her and she finds herself stumbling over the same thoughts: it doesn’t happen like this, not to people like her. This kind of death is reserved for Warez and the men who had a bounty on Rio’s head.

Not housewives or mothers or—

His hands are on her again as he comes up against her side, moving, guiding her towards the door. He’s taking the black duffle bag even though there’s nothing in it and uses it to wipe off the doorknob and a part of the door he’s touched before he wraps an arm around her, shuffling her into the direction of the car.

She realizes her feet are barely moving and that he’s _pulling_ her, forcing her forward with an insistent hand on her hip as they walk into the rain. Beth isn’t sure whether it just takes them a while to get to the car or if it’s really raining that hard but she’s drenched by the time they both get in, Rio stamping on the gas to hightail it out of the parking lot.

They’re driving for a few minutes, Beth’s arms tight around herself as she trembles in the passenger seat…though she’s not sure if she’s cold or in shock. There’s rain dripping from her hair into her dress and when she glances at Rio, his dress shirt is soaked through. She squeezes her eyes shut against the onslaught of nausea but she can’t get it to stop and her hand slams down on the dashboard and a choked _Rio_ leaves her lips but he’s already pulling the car over.

She throws open the passenger door and vomits, mostly water, rain hitting her back with a pattern that she almost finds soothing. She feels his hand a moment later, crawling up her spine, rubbing the back of her neck until it feels safe enough for her to close the door. Beth leans back against the seat, closing her eyes, and she can hear Rio squeezing the steering wheel because the leather squeaks a little.

“What happened back there?” She asks, her voice is raw.

Rio shakes his head, running a hand over his face before letting out a soft sigh. “Sour deal. Someone must’ve opened their mouth…too many hands in the cookie jar.”

Beth swallows because no, that’s… “Who would…who would do something like that?”

He’s quiet for a few moments, drawing his lower lip into his teeth like he’s lost in a thought before he turns his head to look at her. “Many.” She scrunches her eyebrows together. “You asked who would do somethin’ like that, the answer is many people.”

She can’t process that; that can’t be something that’s _right._ That can’t be the answer he’s giving her—is that what this world is really about? The one that he keeps trying to ease her into? Isn’t he bothered by the fact that they just walked into a motel room with two dead bodies? That they’re not even sure how long they’ve been there or how long they will be until someone finds them?

He seems to sense the inner dialogue going on in her mind and gives a slight shake to his head, not sure how else he’s supposed to explain this.

“You’d be surprised what you can get used to.” He says, putting the car back into drive as he pulls onto the road again.

She doesn’t ever want to get used to that.

\--

They drive for twenty minutes, exactly, because Beth almost counts before he pulls over at another motel. It’s smaller, not as ridiculously named and luckily it has no neon flamingos. He parks the car and cuts the engine, thunder crackling somewhere in the distance to tell her that the storm is far from over.

He’s quiet for a few moments, chewing on his thoughts before he says anything, but he finally turns to look at her and says, “You haven’t stopped shakin’ since we left the other motel.” Beth swallows and looks down at herself, he’s right, a soft shiver working its way along her spine.

She wants to say something like _duh_ because she’s freezing, her nose and fingers feeling especially cold but he looks unfazed. He’s damp, shirt still a darker blue from the rain but other than that he just…looks like Rio.

“We can stop, dry off, wait for some of the rain to pass and then head back, yeah?”

A deep seeded ache draws up from her chest as Beth thinks about how she wants nothing more than to go home but the last thing she wants to do is catch a cold because she’s wet and freezing and taking these wet clothes off sounds _so_ appealing.

She nods and only when she gives him the green light does he grab his hoodie from the backseat and, “I’ll get us a room. Wait here.” He’s gone, out the door and running to the check-in office.

Beth drags a hand over her face, closing her eyes and listening to the rain like it might block out the sound of her ragged breathing back at that hotel room. She’s not sure how much time passes but when Rio knocks on the passenger window, she opens up the door and quickly follows him to their room. She wraps her arms around herself as she steps over the threshold, her fingers digging into the skin of her sides as her eyes drink in the simple set-up. Tan and navy colors, one bed, a terrible painting on the wall that looks like one of her kids painted it, a bathroom that has too bright fluorescent lighting, a TV with an actual antenna and a mini fridge.

She looks over her shoulder as Rio closes the door behind them, tossing his hoodie onto the bed as he takes a look at her.

“You should get out of those wet clothes.” She must be looking pretty rough if he’s not even offering to help her, teasing or not.

Beth swallows and toes off her flats, a violent shiver wracking her spine as her bare feet hit the carpet. “I might s-shower.”

Rio nods and his hand comes up to curl her hair around her ear. “Lemme know if you can’t find the soap.” A soft, barely there smirk, his thumb skimming her lower lip.

She rolls her eyes but that interaction feels good, normal, grounds her in reality and warms her even though they’re not on the best of terms. She gently pushes him away before walking towards the bathroom, leaning against the door after she closes it for a long time. It takes her a while to get into the shower, peeling off her dress and hanging it up, underwear and bra not as drenched but could definitely use a nice dry cycle.

Beth stands under the stream, using the water to warm herself up compared to actually showering. She’s not sure how long she’s in the tub but when the water starts to turn cold she turns the knobs, grabbing a big fluffy towel to wrap around her body as she steps out. Her skin is pink and a little raw but she feels a lot better than before, not freezing or trembling as terribly. Her hands are still shaking as she dries off, which just tells her that it’s mostly from shock than being cold.

She has to put her bra and underwear back on which is something she desperately doesn’t want to do but the last thing she’s going to give Rio is her naked body after the last time they got themselves into that situation. She towel dries her hair, using it as a dress to wrap around herself as she steps out of the bathroom.

Rio’s shirt is off, hanging over a chair in the room, same goes with his jeans. He’s standing in just his boxer briefs, fucking around with the TV, looking over his shoulder at her as she comes out. He stares, eyes on pale skin, drinking in her slightly damp and wild curls of her hair and freckles along her shoulder blades.

“I think I used all the hot water.” She admits, a little sheepish.

He nods his head once before he goes to the bed, picking up his hoodie, “Guess it would’ve been a good idea to share.”

Beth gives him a look even as he places the fabric around her shoulders, “Was too small in there anyways, you wouldn’t have fit.”

He smiles, amusement dancing warmly in his eyes as she looks down at the material, soft and somehow a little big on her. She pulls the towel aside, letting him zip it up to her neck, the hoodie fitting her like a dress.

Beth’s enveloped in his scent, the last of her shaking disappearing as he takes the towel to drop off in the bathroom. She concentrates on pulling the fabric of the sleeves over her fingertips and _not_ the fact that Rio’s in his underwear, her skin aching for his own as she wanders over to the one side of the bed. She sits down, her body bone tired, running a hand over her face as she yanks the covers back. She scrunches her nose at the sheets, not wanting to think about how they’re probably not the cleanest she’s ever been in but…this is what she has to do to keep her legs warm.

She can’t believe she’s in _another_ motel room with him, hiding out, waiting for the night to pass. They could leave, she could pull her dress back on and make him take her home but… she glances up at him crouched down raiding the mini-fridge and her eyes follow the long plains of his back. It feels like it makes more sense to stay here. Beth watches him stand and wander over to the bed; she can actually see tired lines on the corners of his eyes if she looks at him long enough.

“No bourbon,” He hands her a small bottle of vodka.

She sighs and unscrews the cap, setting it aside. While bringing the bottle to her lips, the lights flicker just a little, followed by a flash of lightening. She’s suddenly thinking of Marcus, a dull ache directly above her heart because she knows how much he hates storms. Especially since his father isn’t there to tell him that it’ll pass soon.

“Think we’ll lose power?”

Rio shakes his head, sitting on the other side of the bed but very carefully keeping his distance. “This place is like a cockroach; it’ll be the last to go.”

She scrunches her nose, a soft groan leaving her lips, “Please don’t talk about cockroaches.”

A soft laugh tumbles from his lips, running a hand over his face, “Yeah, aight.” He finishes the vodka in one gulp.

Beth watches him for a moment, how his throat moves when he swallows and clears her own before finishing her bottle in two sips. She puts the lid back on, setting the empty bottle on her nightstand before playing with the string on Rio’s hoodie.

_Then it sounds like we gotta reevaluate this partnership of ours._

_Yeah, maybe we do._

She opens her mouth, her brain filling in what she wants to say a few times over before, “You were right.”

He turns his head to look at her, eyebrows raising with the thrill of getting credit for something even though he’s not sure what she’s talking about. “What’s that now?”

“About me being a hypocrite, you were right.” She swallows, waits for some sort of reaction from him but he just nods his head softly, says nothing. The amusement disappears from his face, replaced with something she can’t identify; not as cold as his indifference mask, he’s _listening_ to her, waiting for her to continue but he’s guarded.

So she’s going to try and explain the best way she can, “It took me a long time to realize how much Dean was keeping from me: the money problems, the women, divorce…" Because she knows that's next, it’s only a matter of time. “I lie to everyone but…I’ve never been able to really lie to you.” If anything, Beth _overshares;_ wears her heart and life on her sleeve, “But that doesn’t mean I get to pry into your life. I shouldn’t have broken into your apartment; it wasn’t just your home but…it was your son’s.” She swallows, looking away from him, Marcus’s toothy grin filling the corners of her vision. “I’m sorry.”

She can hear the explanations she gave Rio so many times about being a mother, about doing what she had to do for her kids and so often she forgets that he’s in the same spot, that he’s a father, that he does what he does to provide too. It’s hard sometimes to wrap her head around and regardless that he hurt her…maybe she had it coming.

Rio’s quiet for a moment, mostly looking around the motel room, licking his lower lip as he shuffles against the headboard. “He draws you pictures sometimes, cars mostly. Think he figures you could put ‘em in your office.”

Beth smiles a little, her head falling back against the headboard as she looks at him. “Yeah, I’d love to.”

She lets out a soft sigh and moves further down in bed so she can pull the covers up over herself, turning on her side and away from him to lie down, head falling to the pillow. Her hair splays out like a halo and she watches as rain hits the motel window, not looking like it intends on lightening up anytime soon.

And then something shifts, she can feel it, that gentleness in his touch as he moves in bed to wrap an arm around her waist. He spoons her, slowly, like he’s apprehensive she might push him off the bed but she doesn’t. Instead she closes her eyes as the heat of his chest presses against her back, her fingers playing with the rope bracelet around his thin wrist. She swallows as he sets his chin on her shoulder, the words stuck in her throat for a long few moments.

“You really hurt me, too.” She says and Rio nods against her skin, scruff brushing along her throat and making her shiver.

He apologizes by kissing her pulse point, not alluding to anything else, hand turning so that his palm presses against her own. She laces the tops of their fingers, squeezing as he shuffles into her, leg sliding between her own. Beth keeps her eyes closed, memorizing his touch, leaning back into him so they’re completely slotted together.

The rain pelts against the window and there must be some sort of gap in-between the door and the doorjamb because she can hear wind whistle through, the lights of the motel once again flickering but staying on.

She opens her eyes, staring at the wall a moment. “I keep seeing her face.”

Rio doesn’t have to ask who, his hand moves from her grasp and settles on her hip, slipping under her his hoodie to squeeze at her hip. His thumb rubs along the bone, comforting, his palm wide and grounding.

She hears his voice in her mind: _You’d be surprised what you can get used to._

“Want me to take your mind off it?” He asks, voice low and rough in all the right places.

Beth licks her lips and turns a little to lie on her back, Rio’s hand moving with her so it settles on her stomach. He’s still leaning up, now shifting onto his elbow so he’s further above her—he’s waiting, watching, his eyes tracing her face like he’s painting on a canvas.

She nods then and Rio leans down to kiss her; it’s a little awkward because they’re not lined up, his mouth is gliding against her own from the side and she tilts her head into it as his hand slips into her underwear. He gently pries her thighs apart, Beth complying, his fingers slipping lower into her heat. A soft moan leaves her lips, her one leg bending and canopying the bedsheets. His tongue slips into her mouth, heat flushing her chest and blooming down her stomach, his finger circling her clit.

Her legs spread a little wider, Rio’s lips moving to her neck, his other hand unzipping the hoodie slightly so he can reach her collarbone. Bliss starts to bubble along her spine, her thoughts from before leaving her mind and slamming the door shut. Her eyes flutter closed, his hand sinking lower so a finger can slip inside her. She’s so wet from simple administrations, her toes curling when another finger joins.

Pressure builds inside her as he finds a rhythm, thumb swiping her clit every so often, causing her hips to buckle. When he senses she’s close, he kisses her again, his fingers pumping faster, and when she feels the length of his hard cock rut against the outside of her thigh she loses it. She cums hard, her back arching, soft moans emptied into his mouth.

He pulls back so she can breathe, her back landing softly against the mattress, her one hand coming up to run through her frizzy hair as she tries to regulate her breathing. His fingers slip from her and she hates how empty she feels, her gaze falling onto his face which is a little flushed, eyes _dark._ She licks her lips and moves to touch him but his hand comes down on her wrist, squeezing a little.

“Nah,” He says, words a little hoarse. “Just you.”

Rio clears his throat, kissing her knuckles before letting her hand go. He turns to lie on his back, giving himself a few minutes to calm down before he turns to look at her again. Beth faces him, her body feeling like melted jello as she traces a tattoo on his shoulder, fingers over clean lines and tan skin. Exhaustion tugs at her, trying to pull her into the dark and she’s not sure if she closes her eyes or if Rio turns the lights off but either way she feels him shuffle down into bed and pull her close.

The last thing she feels is her face tucked into his neck, her lips against his steady pulse, as she falls asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> always accepting prompts ;) blainesebastian.tumblr.com/ask thanks so much for reading and if you leave kudos or a review!


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